


Deals Signed in Lavender

by BeezandBitches



Category: Empyre (2020) Comics, Fantastic Four (Comicverse), Marvel Comics
Genre: A little bit of blood, Boss/Employee Relationship, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, I am just a gay bitch trying my best ok, Is the reader a sugar baby? kinda, battles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26032144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeezandBitches/pseuds/BeezandBitches
Summary: You were just trying to support your family, and if that meant signing your life away to fight in bloodsports in a casino halfway across the galaxy from home, you'd do it.You just didn't expect the casino owner to take a liking to you.
Relationships: The Profiteer (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Sign on the Dotted Line

**Author's Note:**

> I have no way to explain myself and if you read this I hope you know I'm just being very gay, I like The Profiteer a lot. 
> 
> If you wanna see more of things from me, follow me on tumblr @BeezandBitches
> 
> Have a lovely day!

Casino Cósmico was a decadent, licentious place. Many considered it the forbidden fruit of the galaxy. Scum and royalty alike would find their way there, to gorge themselves on foods and games and shows. The shows were the most popular attraction, by far. 

Endless battles, fought by warriors of many origins, peppered through the hours. Some found their way there through enslavement, some sought glory and would willingly sign their lives away at the chance. Whatever the case, it was all for the patrons enjoyment. Them and their wallets, of course. The whole point of a business- no matter how corrupt or virtuous- was to make money.

The casino’s new owner, The Profiteer, sister to The Grandmaster, knew this very well. She was obsessed with profit, it was in her nature and name. She would do anything to make money, even if it meant endangering countless lives in bloodsport.

You found your place to the ring through humble means. You were an orphan, raised by a poor family on a half-dead planet floating in the middle of nowhere. When you heard about the casino’s battles, and how if you just signed on the dotted line and won a few rounds, you could become a paid fighter. ‘Paid’ was the driving force there. You wanted to send money home to your family, who all but begged you to reconsider. But, once your mind was made-up, you never turned away.

From the first moment you stepped foot in the ring, The Profiteer had her eyes on you. You were a human, which weren’t common in those parts to begin with, but your skills impressed her and everyone who watched the fight. You were up against a Kronan, no less! And somehow, through quick footwork and dumb luck, you survived!

It wasn’t until after your first real win though that she approached you herself.

Even as you laid against the medical stand, bruised and beaten and barely alive, being half-tended to by a medi-bot as others treated your opponent, who was still gushing blood, you only were glad you had won.

“Now that was impressive.” The Profiteer clapped slowly as she walked up to you, the medi-bot moving to the side quickly but never stopped working. “And the crowd loved it.”

“Thank you,” You hissed. “I love to give them a good show.”

“What’s your name, darling?” She asked.

“Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N,” Your name rolled off her tongue like poisoned honey. “You keep up fights like that and I’ll personally make sure you are _well_ taken care of here. You are a contract fighter, correct?”

“Yes ma’am.” You tried to nod, but you could barely move, only whimpering in pain as you set your head back against the cushioned stand.

“Look at you,” She tsked as she walked closer to you, extremely close in fact. “That last battle did quite the number on you, didn’t it?”

She wiped the blood from your bruised lip with her thumb slowly, almost tenderly. It would be silly of you to think that though, The Profiteer was anything but tender. You knew how she saw her fighters. They were means to an end- tools to reach a profit. She never _cared_ about any of them. That didn’t exclude you. You were just as expendable as anyone else. The only reason she might favor you now- if you could really call it that- was because you were a new crowd favorite. At least, that’s how you saw it.

“You rest, my dear. We’ll continue this conversation later.” She smiled at you, but it wasn’t sweet or comforting. It felt more like dabbing rubbing alcohol on a wound. “Werman,” Her personal assistant flinched, though The Profiteer never turned to look at her. “Make sure she fully recovers before letting her back out there. Send in my Kree and Skrull instead.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Werman nodded quickly, rushing off to follow orders. The Profiteer hated slow work. Slow work meant less time put to making money.

She snapped her fingers and all the medi-bots got to work patching you up, ignoring your opponent. You hissed slightly as they began wrapping you in bandages and sewing closed any large wounds. The Profiteer turned away from you, giving you one last glance before walking away, the sound of her pristine heels clicking against the cold floor remained, ringing in your ears.

———

After two days spent recovering in the infirmary, you were already getting antsy. If you weren’t fighting, you weren’t winning, and if you weren’t winning, you weren’t making any money.

“Excuse me,” You flagged down a medi-bot. “I think I’m well enough to-“

“Ms. L/N, we’ve been over this.” The bot sighed. You weren’t quite sure how a robot could sigh, but it did. “Your vitals are stabilized but your body still needs at least one more day of recovery before you’re in fighting shape.”

“But, I-“

“The Profiteer was very clear in her demands, Miss. My hands are tied.” And with that, it rolled away. 

You groaned, flopping back onto the cot and staring up at the ceiling. You could hear the crowd’s cheers muffled through the thin casino walls, and it just added insult to injury.

“Pardon me.” A small voice said. You turned to see Werman standing there with a hologram messenger. “Your presence is requested in The Profiteer’s booth immediately. Please follow me.”

“Oh, um, ok.” You nodded, getting up and trailing after the shorter, pinker woman. 

She led you to a glass elevator which rose quickly as soon as the doors shut. She watched you though, nervously bouncing on your heels.

“Did, um, she say why she needs me?” You asked.

“No.” Werman shook her head. “She only said she would need a private audience with you.”

“Right, right, cool.” You nodded.

“If it calms your nerves,” She said. “The Profiteer doesn’t fire people personally. She sends a guard to throw them out of the space locks.”

“That’s-“ You weren’t exactly sure what to say to that. “Reassuring.”

When the elevator stopped and the two of you stepped out, you saw The Profiteer sitting on a large, pillowy, golden lounge chair, staring off the edge of her booth boredly at the battle happening below.

“Ma’am.” Werman bowed as she turned to look at the both of you. You quickly did the same, as to not offend her. The Profiteer smiled.

“Ah, there you are, my dear.” She said. “Took you long enough, Werman. Leave us.” And without another word, she scurried back to the elevator, which descended down much faster than it had risen. “Y/N,” She patted a second lounge chair beside her. “Sit with me.” 

You hurried over to the seat, sitting awkwardly on the soft furniture. It was squishy, like a cloud- you had never sat on something so soft. You peaked at The Profiteer for only a second before averting your eyes, as she had been looking at you the entire time. She chuckled.

“No need to be shy.” She said, capturing your gaze once again. “Here, drink with me.” She then handed you a crystal glass filled with a bubbling pink liquid that smelt like berries and sugar.

“I’ve never drank before, ma’am.” You admitted, swirling the glass slightly as you inspected it.

“Never?” She asked. “Then you _must_ try it. It’s a rare brew from a far off star system. It normally costs 15 million units per bottle.” You almost choked on the air when you heard that number.

“15 _million_?!” You yelped, only realizing how loud you were when other spectators had turned their eyes briefly away from the fight and onto you. You gulped. “That’s so much money.”

“Yes, but, I do like the finer things. And it’s not like I don’t make enough from one battle to afford such things.” She waved her hand fleetingly at your surprise. “I insist, try it.”

You took a cautious sip, letting the warm, sweet liquid wash down your throat. It was good, really good, but too good for _you_. You set the glass down afterwards.

“Did you not like it?” The Profiteer asked, her smile turning into a slight frown. “I could always have the servers bring something else up-“

“No, no, no need ma’am.” You said quickly. “It was delicious, but..”

“But?”

“But it’s much too expensive for me. I could never pay you back for it.”

“Pay me-“ She blinked. “Y/N, darling, you needn’t worry about _that._ Like I told you before, I want to make sure you are well taken care of. That includes letting you have free reign to any goods you like. Boozes, foods, jewels, just ask and it’s yours.”

“That’s- _very_ generous of you, ma’am.” You said, trying to read her expression. “But, i'm not sure I understand.”

“You are a fine fighter, dear.” The Profiteer said, setting down her own glass. “A very fine fighter. And the crowds adore you. Your last fight- well, what else can I say but you brought down the house?” She chuckled. “My patrons want to see more of you. And I can’t miss out on that opportunity if you’re dead from exhaustion, now can I?” You watched her lean in closer to you. “You keep it up, bring in loads of these peoples’ money, and I'll make sure you get to have _anything_ you want. Be rewarded like a champion.”

“You really mean that?” You asked.

“Absolutely.” She said. “And when you inevitably have to recover, you can spend it up here with me. Engaging in the finer things in life.” She put her thumb to your chin, grazing your lower lip thoughtfully. “Do we have a deal?”

Your brain was fried, this was unreal. With a deal like that, you could make sure your whole family was taken care of for the rest of their lives! No more struggling, no more worrying, nothing. The sheer bliss almost made you unfazed to the sensation of her touch you were feeling. Almost.

“Where do I sign?” You asked. 

The Profiteer only laughed, the sound of it harmonizing with the explosions coming from the battlefield.

“Oh, my little gladiator,” She smirked. “We’re going to do _wonders_ together.”


	2. Sweet on Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Y/N) gets Pretty Woman'd

Getting back into the ring was nice, in a weird way. It was familiar already, the routine of battle. Especially considering it was already your fourth fight of the day. It was like your old routine of getting up and helping on the farm, prepping the livestock and such. You thrived on routine like that.

As your platform raised into the sky, your weapon in hand, the crowds began to cheer your name. And, as egotistical as it sounded, you did kind of like the roars of onlookers crying out for you. Something about it was invigorating. Especially for someone like you, you’d never heard so much praise in your whole life.

You looked out at the battlefield- at the moment nothing more than a flat plain- and spotted your opponent. They weren’t any species you recognized, looking like a giant snake with talons and several rows of sharp teeth, but they were _big._ Big and mean looking. Them snarling at you didn’t help their case either.

But that didn’t matter. All that mattered is if you could knock them out long enough to survive and look good for the audience. If they still liked you, it was fine.

“Loyal patrons!” 

Well, they weren’t the only ones who you hoped liked you. 

The Profiteer stepped out onto the edge of her balcony box, her arms extended as if to signal the crowd to cheer, which they did with grandeur. She looked as radiant as ever, which was incredibly so, dipped in a fine layer of glimmer and gleam. She was the queen, the casino was her kingdom.

“Welcome to the ring the unkillable Terran, (Y/N)!” People cheered your name, and you waved at the sea of viewers proudly. “Her opponent is the fierce Agullo!” Your opponent roared, and you gulped slightly. You could do this- you hoped at least. “Place your bets now on who will be the last competitor standing!”

At the sound of a loud buzzer, your platforms disappeared from beneath you both. The battlefield quickly changed to that of a rocky desert. Polls were placed on what field you’d fight on, so it was always a toss up. The audience did seem to really like the more difficult terrains.

You dodged behind a large boulder as your opponent charged at you. You’d need to be quick, but the sandy ground made it hard for you to get good footing. Luckily, they were still at least fifty yards away. Maybe the boulder would give you a second to think-

That plan was thrown out when the Agullo smashed the boulder in half and hovered over you with their jaw hanging slack, ready to bite your head off.

All you could do was run. As the crowd cheered, roaring inaudible words you ran and ran as fast as your legs would carry you, dodging every attack, every projectile. Thank god you were agile.

“They call you unkillable, eh?” Your opponent snarked, tossing a large, incredibly sharp rock right at your head, barely missing. “I’ll see about that!”

“Fuck!” You panted, losing breath and balance quickly, nearly falling over with only survival keeping you moving long enough to stay up right. 

You hid again, thankfully all the rocks being chucked had caused the dust to whip up around the both of you- unfortunately this also meant that while the Agullo couldn’t see you, you also couldn’t see them.

You gripped your weapon tightly, closing your eyes. You couldn’t hear any footsteps, as the crowds were too loud. The rumble of the ground though was a good signal they were close by.

“Come out, come out, little terran! You’ll make a fine victory meal!” They mocked you as they drew ever closer.

“Left or right, left or right..” you muttered, biting your lip so tightly it could’ve drawn blood. The rumble got louder and louder, and all you could do was pray. To who? It didn’t matter. You just needed to land a mark.

The battle cry you heard shrieking in your ears made it clear that you were out of time.

You stood up as fast as you could and swung to your right, hoping it would impact something- and from the force you felt, you definitely made contact with them, and the sound of a crash made it clear they went flying just enough.

The dust settled, and you saw the Agullo lying against a large stone, the impact having shattered it. On their scaly face was a large imprint from where you had struck them.

The crowd started to go wild, and all bets on you were doubled.

You could almost _feel_ a smirking stare on your back as you slowly approached the woozy Agullo. You had to be quick. Just knock them out, and the round would be _over._

“Sorry.” You muttered under your breath as you swung again, your weapon making direct contact with their head, knocking them out long enough for you to win.

The same loud buzzer rang out again, signaling a victory. People cheered your name again, and it almost made the heavy swing feel lighter.

“Now wasn’t that spectacular?” The Profiteer announced over her loudspeaker. “Give it up for (Y/N), everyone! She is on fire! Our next fight will be beginning shortly.”

Before you could reach out to help the Agullo up, a swarm of Medi-bots surrounded them, scanning them, beeping in code as they took them down through a hidden elevator on the now-neutral field that led to the medical center. 

About three Medi-bots surrounded and scanned you before leading you down the walkway to the medical wing. You only had a few new scrapes and scratches, but you still needed to be tended to.

You sat on the medical bed quietly, flexing your hand slowly to make sure the gauge is secure enough. You didn’t dare look up as your opponent was rushed by you on a garter by several medi-bots to the critical wing. You hadn’t thought the swing was _that_ hard..

“There she is!” The sound of a very familiar, honey-coated voice broke you out of your own mind as you looked up and saw The Profiteer strutting up to you, with Werman in tow. “That was quite the show, dear.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” You said, smiling graciously. “Glad to be of service.”

“I bet.” She chuckled, clasping her hands together as she stood before you. “You must be exhausted. That was what, your third fight today?”

“Fourth, ma’am.” You corrected her lightly. The Profiteer didn’t seem like the kind of lady who took kindly to criticism.

“All bruised and busted up.. such a sad sight.” She shook her head, clicking her tongue against her teeth as she lifted your hand up to get a good look. You blushed lightly as she inspected you. Her touch was surprisingly soft, like resting your hand on a bed of roses. “I think you’ve earned a well deserved rest.” As your hand fell back to your side, a small part of you wished she’d not let go, even though you wouldn’t admit that. “Werman,” She snapped her fingers, alerting her meek assistant.

“Y-Yes ma’am?” She asked, looking up at her.

“See to it that (Y/N) is upgraded to a private living quarters.” The Profiteer’s words were surprising. All of the competitors- as far as you knew- had to share rooms together. It was a tense environment, but it was what it was. Hell, you didn’t even know there _was_ private living in the casino. Though, it did make sense. I mean, the boss had to sleep somewhere, didn’t she?

“Yes ma’am.” Werman nodded, not skipping a beat as she wrote down the orders.

“Um,” You said, watching The Profiteer’s eyes shift to look back at you. Though, she never did quite let you out of her sight. “Might I ask why, ma’am?”

“Remember what I said, darling?” She said. “I told you that I’d have you taken care of so long as you kept up those fights, didn’t I? You just net me nearly 5 million units from that last one alone.”

“I did?” You asked, blinking. Wow.. that much money was bet on _you?_ That was unbelievable.

“Oh yes.” The Profiteer chuckled. “They love you. Their cheers are loud, Darling, but their wallets are louder. Don’t forget that.”

“Understood..”

“And besides,” She waved her hand slightly. “There’s no way you can keep up your strength in those crowded quarters. You need good rest, fine sheets- things that’ll really have you rejuvenated for the next fight. So you’ll have it.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” You smiled, not noticing the way she grinned back at you. “I don’t know what to say-“

“Say that you’ll be going up there now and getting a good night's sleep.” She said, only to be cut off by the ping of Werman’s hologram display.

“Your room is all set for you, Miss (Y/N).” She said. “Please, allow me to escort you there.”

“Would it be alright if I collect some things from the old rooms first?” You asked.

“Of course.” Werman said.

“I’ll see you later then, my dear.” The Profiteer said. “Enjoy yourself.”

———

“It sounds like she likes you.”

You groaned, placing what little belongings you had inside the worn bag you had arrived at Casino Cósmico with. Your bed- or rather your _old_ bed now- was a bunk set, with yours on the bottom and your bunkmate lazing over the edge of the top.

“Tams,” You said, stuffing a shirt that your mom had made you into your bag. “You do realize how crazy that sounds, don’t you?”

Tamera, Tams to their friends, rolled their eyes- all three of them- and then proceeded to hop down from where they laid on their own bed.

“(Y/N), c’mon.” They said, punching your arm. You bit back a hiss as it was still kinda sore. “All the special treatment? The boss has the hots for you so bad it’s _ridiculous_.”

“I told you, it’s just because I keep bringing in a crowd.” You said naively.

“Aren’t you supposed to be smart? Like, that’s what kept you alive this long.”

“Gee, thanks, Tams.”

“I mean it!” They protested. “The Profiteer has never, and I mean _never,_ acted like this with any of her old stars before. You’re somethin’ special.”

“I’m just a plucky underdog.” You said. “The crowd loves that kinda thing.”

“Keep tellin’ yourself that, bask in that denial.”

“Y’know, if you end up right, which you won’t ever be-“ You said as you finished packing. “I’ll give _you_ my new room all to yourself.”

“Hah!” Tamera laughed. “I better start packing then.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You chuckled.

You swung the bag over your back and gave one last look to the room before you. It was full of other fighters, all of whom were off duty doing their own thing. You’d have to admit, you’d miss it there. It was.. homey.

“Miss (Y/N),” Werman said, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes.” You nodded.

Werman led you to the exit, right after you got one last goodbye hug with Tamera of course, and up an elevator to the suites.

Now, these suites were normally reserved for patrons, you knew that. But, for some _totally professional_ reason, The Profiteer wished to grace you with one. 

You looked around as you followed Werman. The entire hall was plastered with gold and pearls and crystals galore. It was beautiful in the same way a glass door was beautiful. Fragile, intricate, and expensive looking.

“This will be your room.” Werman said. 

You looked ahead of you to see a large lavender door with shimmery gold accents. When you were led inside, you were blown away by the size. The main room alone could be bigger than your family’s entire barn!

“The room includes both bed and bath, an eat-in kitchen, and has direct access to an off-shoot private training room.” Werman said. “Along with a buzzer system that if you press, you’ll have someone come and fix any issues you may have on hand.”

“Like a servant or somethin’?” You blinked.

“More of a concierge,” She corrected. 

“That’s.. a lot.”

“Oh, The Profiteer insisted on it.” She said, smiling at you kindly. “Anything for her star fighter.”

You didn’t linger on those words long, as it just felt like you could hear Tamera laughing from a distance.

“Right,” You nodded. “Well, thank you kindly, Werman. I'm sorry if it’s any trouble on your part.”

“No trouble at all.” She said. “I’ll let you get settled in. Rest well, Miss (Y/N). Don’t forget, you have your next battle tomorrow afternoon.”

“I’ll be there.” You nodded.

As Werman left, you took that as your cue to explore your new room. Everything was so shiny and neat, like no one had been in there since it was built. There was fancy furniture that was much softer than most beds you had ever slept in, crystal glassware that you were reluctant to touch out of fear of it shattering, and the largest bathroom you had ever seen in your life, complete with a jet tub so deep you could go for a swim in it.

You set down your small bag on your enormous new bed, thinking it looked like you had somehow under packed by just the size comparison of it and your belongings. You plopped down on the bed, turning slightly in place as if to really get a good feel for it. The sheets were satin and shiny, cold to the touch but comfortable enough that if you could, you’d never move again. And they were in such a nice purple color, too. You hadn’t felt something this soft since your auntie had knitted a couple blankets for you and your sister with fabric she had gotten on vacation. That was years ago though, and that blanket was long since gone. But this was a close second.

As you rolled around, you had noticed a small note sitting on the bedside table. You leaned up and took it, seeing written on it the loveliest penmanship you had ever read. The note went as followed:

_‘I hope you’re enjoying yourself, (Y/N). I’d appreciate it if tomorrow you meet me up in my private box to watch a match together. And if you’d be so inclined, please feel free to wear any of the new outfits left for you in the closet._

_Take care, The Profiteer.’_

You blinked, slowly getting off your bed and making your way to the closet. When you opened the doors, you were surprised to see several outfits hanging on the rack for you, each more shiny and colorful than the last.

“Holy shit.” You said as you pulled out one outfit in particular. It wasn’t exactly a dress, but it wasn’t exactly _not_ a dress either. It was more like.. a pantsuit, but with a long draped overskirt attached. The top part was pretty, with a thin lace covering the neckline and shoulders, but was otherwise bare. It was a nice muted silver too, which was nice.

This was all so much to take in, and what Tamera had told you before was now getting louder and louder in your ear, so you did what any sensible person would do and tried to ignore it- because it was _still_ crazy, even though you were being rather spoiled by the woman who was supposed to be your boss.

You hung back up the outfit before going and unpacking your bag, placing a picture frame at the bedside. It was of you, your parents, your baby sister, and as many aunts, uncles, and cousins that could fit in the frame. You smiled softly as you looked at it. At the end of the day, all of this was for _them_. And even if things got confusing and overwhelming, you’d stick it out. You had to.

“Goodnight, guys. I love y’all.” You muttered to the frame as you shut the lights and laid back down, quickly falling asleep curled up at the edge of the giant bed.

There was always tomorrow to deal with everything.


End file.
